


To Build A Home - S.D

by YenneferXGeralt



Category: Uncharted (Video Games), Uncharted 4 - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13472586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YenneferXGeralt/pseuds/YenneferXGeralt
Summary: In the most unconventional of meetings comes the most unconventional circumstances. Deception, love, and above all, the lure of adventure.





	1. Hopeless - 1999

  
1999

  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the National Museum of American History will be closing shortly. Please make your way to the exits as soon as possible." The few clusters of families shuffled out of the lobby door as the lights dimmed throughout the museum. The soft chatter slowly died down and silence encased the colossal building. A few night guards passed by the front desk, preparing for their long shift, along with three cleaners who hauled their hefty vaccums behind them. One employee remained, seated at the front desk, quickly typing away, watching the minutes tick by. Encased in her own world, Emily only just heard the lobby door squeak open and a collective of footsteps echo throughout the hall. She felt a presence in front of her but decided to stay focused on her computer screen.

  
"I'm sorry, but the Museum is closed. We'll be open again on Monday at 7." She said almost bored, her concentration focused entirely on the research she was typing up.

  
"Oh we aren't here for the Museum, we're looking for a Miss Emily Munro?" Emily froze, looking up and seeing two men stood at the desk, their tall statures making her feel minuscule.

  
"That would be me, gentlemen. What can I help you with?" She asked curiously, finger on the hidden button underneath the desk that would call security.

  
"Well, you see, we heard of your area of...expertise, and wanted to make you an offer." One of the men said, tall and smug looking, frankly, it made Emily want to punch him in the face, but she refrained from doing so.

  
"What kind of an offer?" She asked, eyes narrowing at the man who leaned closer to the desk.

  
"One you won't refuse."

  
-

  
"I'm sorry, you have enough evidence to prove that this treasure exists?" Emily questioned the two men who sat across from her in the cafe. Still confused by the entire situation, she had demanded that the three of them go to a more populated area of New York, rather than the dim and desolate front lobby of the closed Museum.

  
"That's why we need your help." The other man, Nathan she had learned to be his name said, wincing at the abrupt introduction that Rafe had forced upon the two.

  
"You need my help? A multi-millionaire and a treasure hunter? If you think I'm really that gullible you can find some other historian-" Putting her mug of steaming tea down on to the table, ready to leave at what she assumed to be a mockery of her entire profession.

  
"Miss Munro. Sit." Rafe demanded so calmly that the hairs on the back of her neck stuck up. Obeying his order without even questioning it, she nervously awaited what was to be said next. Sensing her worry, however, Nate took it upon himself to explain the situation better.

  
"We have enough information to suggest that there really is a treasure, we are talking millions of dollars worth of gold stored on Henry Avery's ship here. The only problem is, we don't know where exactly to start looking, Rafe, me and my brother-"

  
"Your brother? There's more of you?" She answered, more bewildered than ever.

  
"He's not important right now, Miss Munro, what's important is that you listen to us when we say, that if you help us find the treasure, you will be one of the richest historians to this date." Rafe leant back in his chair, his left leg folded over his right. Emily did the opposite, leaning forward with a hard glare set on the smirking narcissist.

  
"The money isn't what I'm interested in, Mr Adler." She put emphasis on his name, mocking his tone he used on her. "The only thing that matters is uncovering one of the biggest mystery's in of our lifetime." Nate smiled slightly, careful to not be caught, Rafe's eyebrows furrowing as he mirrored her actions and leant forward too. "But what I can't seem to fathom is why you want me, of all people, to help you." Rafe looked at Nate, indicating that he wanted him to talk.

  
"We uh, we did some research, figured you had a masters in History and Archaeology, not to mention one hell of a knack for pirates" Nate began, uncertain of the way it would come across.

  
"You found that out how?" She asked suspiciously, knowing her educational records would have been easy to locate as she was top of her year, however, her enjoyment of the history of pirates wasn't something she was too open about.

  
"Last years exhibition. I believe you did the whole thing yourself? 'The history of pirates'!" Rafe dramatically recited the title of the exhibition, raising his hands up in the air. "The fascinating lives of pirates like Samuel Bellamy, Black beard and..."

  
"Henry Avery." She mumbled, frowning and realizing now that she had really gotten herself into this situation. "Fair enough." She said, nodding her head at the quality of information presented, Nathan relaxing slightly, glad he nor Rafe was being accused of stalking the poor woman.

  
"You have until Monday to decide." The bluntness of his words made Emily frown, a jolt of panic and excitement coursing through her all at once as the two men stood at the same time.

  
"And what I am supposed to do, get up and leave my job? My home?" She asked hurriedly as Rafe and Nathan made their way to the door.  
"Like I said, it's up to you. But don't expect another offer like this in your lifetime, Miss Munro." And with that, the two men were gone.

  
-

  
"...The Donner Party were the perfect example of what not to do when travelling across the Plains." Emily pointed towards the exhibits slides, showing the journey in pictures. "Not only did they set off too late, but they were extremely unprepared. Their biggest mistake you'll see is that half of the group trusted a guidebook that hadn't even been tested yet!" The children gathered round gasped audibly, a smile growing on the historians face as she enthusiastically told the tale. "And this is where it gets worse. One half of the group followed the secure trail and ended up in their destination only a few months later, but the other half..." A somewhat graphic depiction of the party's demise was on the next slide.

  
"What are they doing?" One child called out.

  
"They are eating each other. Disgusting, I know. But because this half took the shortcut, they ran out of provisions and were caught in the Winter storm! Hence why..." she gestured to the picture on the slide and the children all let out a chorus of dramatic gags. Emily laughed before continuing the short ending to the story, ushering the crowd of children and parents further into the Museum to look at the other current exhibits.

  
"Wow, I mean, I never thought a story about cannibalism could sound so amazing, but the way you talk..." Emily turned quickly to see a somewhat young man leant against the wall opposite her and the exhibit. Frowning she held her ground, having far too many strange ordeals with men recently.

  
"Can I help you, sir?" She asked as he pushed himself off of the wall and sluggishly walked towards her, hands in his pockets and an unlit cigarette between his lips.

  
"Samuel Drake, at your service." He bowed his head, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and sliding it behind his ear. "And you are Emily Munro, one of the most highly sought after historians and yet, here you are, in a museum, presenting to little kids." Emily scoffed and slapped his cheek harshly, not particularly caring at the unprofessionalism of the situation. Sam rubbed his cheek, taking a few steps forward, only for Emily to take two back. "Okay, maybe that didn't come out right."

  
"Mr Drake, I am going to ask you to leave before I call security." She seethed. Sam sensed this, clearly, and put his hands up in defence.

  
"Look I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, It's just Nate told me about you, and I was supposed to come and see if-"

  
"Wait. Did you say, Nate? Nate as in one of the bozos that showed up here Friday night?" Sam looked relieved, jumping a step forward in anticipation, only to make the woman's frown more prominent.

  
"Yes! Yes, he's-he's my brother and Rafe? Pretentious, snobby, clearly too far up his own ass. Yes. I'm with those 'bozos'" Emily's shoulders seemed to become less stiff as she realized that he was simply the brother Nathan was talking about the other night.

  
"Well, Samuel, you can tell Rafe and Nathan that I won't be accepting their offer." She said, head held high as she began to walk down the hall. Sam was shocked, standing still for a moment before jogging to catch up with her.

"Are you serious? You're going to pass up on one of the best offers anyone could ever receive? Henry Avery's treasure is-" She stopped abruptly, causing his chest to bump into her back briefly.

  
"I know, Samuel. Henry Avery's treasure is one of the biggest mysteries. I know. I've looked, and for years I've gotten nowhere. It's not going to make a difference if there's a twink with a shit load of money or Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum." Something seemed so out of place in her words. He had been observing her since she began her tour this morning, nothing had provoked such a harsh and pessimistic attitude. In fact, from what he had seen so far, Emily Munro seemed to be one of the gentlest persons he had observed. Not to imply that observing women without their consent was a daily occurrence. "I have searched before-tried to search, years ago, before all of this." She gestured to the walls around her. "It's hopeless."

  
"It's not hopeless. We've got a lead, Joseph Burns' cell in Panama." Sam knew he shouldn't have told her that, especially if she turned around and refused, but something in him knew that he needed to prove to her, prove that this was legitimate and not some malicious scheme.

  
"Panama? You've got a lead in Panama? Samuel, the only thing close to that cell is-"

  
"A prison? Yeah, don't worry about that. We just need your help figuring out what's in there, and what we can do with it." He smirked at her, watching the cogs turning in her brain. Her whole body stilled as she thought it over. Before she could doubt herself, or stop and think rationally, she lifted her gaze and met Sam's. His hazel eyes seemed to bore into hers as she sought some sort of jest within them, a false emotion, something to indicate that he was lying or it was a joke. But she couldn't find it. All she saw was raw, passionate emotion, something she found herself intrigued by.

"I'm in."


	2. Nicotine - 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He promised her she would never lose him. But some promises just can't be kept.

  
2000

Moonlight illuminated the darkened hotel room, casting silver shadows across the carpeted floor and thin bedsheets. Sam stirred in his sleep, reaching out a hand to grasp to the body next to him, but was met with cold sheets. Frowning he sat up, eyes trying to adjust to the light. He could just make out a figure on the balcony, their sillouhette leaning against the balcony, a cigarrette in their hand and small clouds of smoke blowing away in the slight breeze.

Groggily, Sam untangled himself from the sheets, slipping his boxers back on and made his way outside too, mind still hazy with sleep.

"What are you doing out here, sweetheart?" He asked as he stood next to the figure, blowing one last puff of smoke from their lips.

"I can't sleep." She said, passing the cigarrette to Sam who happily began to inhale the nicotine and chemicals, his body relaxing at the familliar sensation.

"Can't sleep, or won't sleep?" He questioned, turning his body so it was facing her. He noticed the way the moonlight shone on her face, making her look even more beautfiul, the few freckles sprayed on her cheeks matching the celestial patterns in the night sky. Her eyes however, looked sad. He could tell for they lacked that familliar spark when she spoke of Henry Avery's treasure, or certain historical landmarks they passed, or when she simply looked into his own hazel eyes at night. Now, they were dull, the ocean blue now a sunken aegean.

"This isn't going to work, Sam, I know it won't. Something will go wrong or someone will find out and-" Tears were beginning to fall down her cheeks, her facade finally crumbling. Sam dropped the cigarette and took her into his arms, her cold body trembling as he held her close to his chest, shushing her gently and running his fingers through her hair.

"You don't know that, Emily. We're only going to be a few weeks, we get whatever's up there and we leave. That's all." He tried to console her but nothing seemed to work. She wrapped her arms around his back, burying her face in the crook of his neck and inhaled. Whiskey and smoke. His smell. It comforted her slightly and she managed to calm down within a few minutes, Sam all the while kissing her forehead softly.

"When I first agreed to help you guys, I-I...I never thought that I'd end up caring for all of you, never thought that I'd..." She seemed to take a deep breath before pulling away slightly, looking up into his concerned eyes. "I can't lose you, Sam." She finally whispered, one hand caressing the side of his face.

"You won't." He mumbled, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. "You'll never lose me, I promise."

-

The airport was heaving, bodies rushing to and from the planes. Amongst the heaving crowd, Emily stood, biting her lips anxiously as she waited for the three men to finally arrive back. In intervals she would stand on the tip of her toes and peak over the heads of business men and women, families, tourists, and hope that she could see that familiar face that she had missed so dearly for the past two weeks.

After about ten minutes of waiting, she finally caught sight of Rafe, his face was bruised with a small cut on his temple. Gulping she made her way over, Rafe noticing her and making his way over too. When close enough, she gave him a nod and patted his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. She noticed how he avoided eye contact, how he seemed to copy her actions, but did not linger, instead walking outside to the cab.

Frowning, Emily turned back around. Nathan was slowly walking towards her, a limp evident in his movement. He was far more battered than Rafe, bruises and cuts littering his body, one prominent cluster of deep purples and light greens on his left eye. Tears began to build up as she walked closer, ready to see Sam walk out behind him, smiling and cracking those ridiculous jokes he always did. But he didn't. Even when Nathan had reached her, held her close to him and wept silently on her shoulder, or when he pulled away and had to drag her away from the exit terminal, tears streaming down her face, or even when they were back at the hotel, when sobs rocked her entire body, his shirt, the only piece of him she had left, clutched in her grasp. Inhaling it with shaking breaths, she smelt the whiskey and smoke. She smelt him. Only this time, he wasn't there.


	3. Raphael - 2006

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From what Emily believed to be a redemption of Sams death, she finally realises that everything she has done has been in vain.

2006

"We've looked all over the East section of the Cathedral and we still haven't found anything, goddamnit!" Rafe shouted, slamming his fists on the table. Emily didn't even flinch, already used to his sudden outbursts and anger.

"We can't just blow the whole thing up, Rafe. This will take time, you knew this when you bought the land." Emily put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples slowly, the circular motion easing her headache slightly.

"It's been five years, Emily. And we have found nothing. Pretty soon the only option left will be to blow it up." He seethed, anger in his voice as he began to pace.

"We are not blowing it up, Rafe. This Cathedral is hundreds of years old, destroying it will be a dis-"

"Enough!" He bellowed, kicking a wooden box leant against the wall so hard that it shattered under his force. Emily sighed, standing up and walking over to Rafe; she knew how to calm him down, most of the time. Sometimes he listened, giving up and letting her guide him back to table where they could discuss another plan of action, but sometimes he wouldn't. Instead of relaxing at Emily's soft touch, he stiffened, turning around abruptly and slapping her cheek. Emily stepped back at the impact, holding the side of her face, her mouth opened in shock. Rafe was shocked too but still held a stoic gaze, not letting his posture falter. After a pregnant pause, Emily looked up, eyes narrowing at the man stood in front of her.

"How dare you." She growled, snatching her coat off of the chair and grabbing her handbag.

"Em, come on, I'm sorry-" Rafe tried to reach out to her but she quickly dodged his hand. Pointing a finger at him she moved backwards.

"Don't you think about touching me, Raphael. I have put up with this shit for too long, this god damn treasure-" She stopped herself as thoughts of Sam came into her mind. "The only reason I stayed here with you, was because of him. Because I didn't want him to die in vain. You don't deserve the treasure, you never did. Enjoy wasting your time, Rafe, because I am done here." She spat, venom in her voice as she quickly turned on her heel and slammed the wooden door, she could hear Rafe calling after her, but decided to ignore him.

The cold Scottish air was bitter, making Emily shiver involuntarily. The sun was just beginning to roll down the grey sky. Small wisps of oranges and yellows peeking through the misty cloak. _"Rafe's a, well he's a bit of an asshole, but we've got to put up with him for_ now. _" Sam said as he escorted Emily out of the Museum. "As soon as we find this treasure we will never have to speak to him again." He finished. Emily laughed, remembering how blunt and rude he had been the other week._

_"All the more reason to find it then?" She joked. Sam smiled softly, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he shook his head._

_"All the more reason."_

Smiling at both the memory and of the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she opened her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Nate.

"Hey, Nate, it's Emily, yeah, that job you're doing, the one with Francis Drake? I want to help."


	4. Whiskey and Smoke - 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of treasure hunting and tiresome hours at the Museum, Emily meets the man who made her walk down the path she did not choose. Though this reunion is bittersweet, the now growing jealousy that Rafe can't seem to hold down finally surfaces.

  
2013 

  
"Jones, there's some paperwork Michael wants you to go over before Tuesday's exhibit." Patterson informed as Emily sipped on her coffee, making her groan in annoyance.

"Can Andrew not go over it? He specializes in Egypt anyway." The proposal was met with a raised eyebrow, which made Emily throw her hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll have it on his desk Monday night." Patterson closed the office door satisfied, leaving Emily alone with merely her thoughts. Exhausted, she rested her head on her desk and let out a sigh. Working overtime for the past several years had been the only thing keeping her mind busy. The more exhibits she worked on, the less she had to think about him, the less numb she felt. After returning from the Scotland all those years ago, it seemed that her work was never truly the same; always occupied by an unwanted thought and the odd adventure.

Another knock on her office door made her sit up, Patterson's head once again sticking through the door. "Someone on the phone for you on front desk. Said it was urgent." She said, holding the door open for her as she gathered herself clumsily.

"Nate?" She asked as they began to walk out, not expecting a call from the adventurer whom she had not spoke to in years. Patterson shook her head, elicting a small 'huh' from Emily. "Sullivan?"

"Would you just answer the damn phone?" Patterson asked in jest, bumping Emily towards the telephone placed on the front desk.

Emily hastily brough the phone to her ear, eager to hear who was on the other end. "Hello?" There was rustling on the other, she could hear a soft voice in the background saying 'let me talk to her', followed by a moment of silence before an all too familiar voice spoke up.

"Emily, nice to hear your voice again." The voice chirped sarcastically, Emily could practically see the smirk on his face.

"Rafe." She said his name bitterly. "What do you want? I told you not to contact me again." All intrigue had seemed to have left her as part of her past resurfaced down the telephone line.

"Well you see, there's something I think you should see, and unfortunately, you're gonna have to come over here to get it." Emily scoffed at this, shaking her head as she looked around the entrance to see if there were any guests around.

"I can smell your bullshit from here, Rafe." She mused, refusing to fall for his manipulative ways.

"Suit yourself, but if you do change your mind and your imagination gets the better of you, you know where I am." The line was dead. Confusion swept over Emily, she wouldn't lie in saying that she wasn't interested, Rafe hadn't contacted her for years, finally giving up after he got no reply countless times, but now, after all this time, he called.

She had left Rafe the moment he had hit her, opting to aiding Nate in his discovery of the El Dorado and Sir Francis Drake; a rather harrowing ordeal. From what she had heard over the years, Rafe hadn't found anything concerning the treasure, part of her was happy, but part of her knew that as long as the treasure was hidden, Rafe would fall deeper and deeper into despair. She cared somewhat for the man, even after all these years, what he did to her, what they did together. Her decision was made final when she excused herself from work and hailed the first cab that drove past, setting off for Rafe's luxurious abode.

-

The neighbourhood in which Rafe lived in was incredibly wealthy, huge buildings, all a pearly white, apartments and manors in a long row down the wide street. Some houses had a large front lawn, the grass being a cosmetic green. Some houses, like Rafes, had a large fence barricading the land inside, a towering metal gate blocking the driveway.

The cab dropped Emily off just outside, allowing her to ring the call box outside the gate and be let in by a rather old man who Emily assumed to be a new butler. The interior was sleek, marble floor with crisp white walls, there were many artifacts hung from the walls and books piled here and there. It hadn't changed since the last time she was here.

She was instructed to enter a room to the left, she remembered this as the lounge, a grand room with a few sofas and a piano in the corner, Rafe always liked to show off his wealth, in ways like buying expensive instruments and not learning how to play them. Emily had even attempted to teach him at some point after Panama, but he showed no interest.

"Hello, Emily," Rafe said as she entered the room, seeing him sat on one of the plush sofas. "Sit." He said, patting the chair next to him.

"No thanks, I didn't come here to catch up." She said bluntly, hands not unfolding from her chest. Rafe looked her up and down, making Emily feel on edge as his eyes assessed her every curve.

"You look good, Em. Not changed much since the last time I saw you." He observes, sipping the drink he had in his hand, eyes not leaving hers.

"I would love to say the same about you, Rafe, but it seems that the treasure is bringing out your frown line." She replied back, sass dripping from her tone as a smirk grew on his face.

"You're even more feisty than what I remember, darling. I like it." His smirk grew, eyes darkening slightly, making Emily feel even more uncomfortable.

"Why did you bring me here, Rafe?" Emily asked, beginning to grow agitated. Rafe sighed, shaking his head and looking down.

"God, it's been seven years and you don't even want to-"

"Rafe." She interrupted, giving him a look that he recognized.

"Fine, fine." He held up his hands in mock surrender, standing up and brushing the invisible dust off of his jeans. He walked around her, placing his hands on her shoulders and shoved her lightly towards the centre of the room. Confused, she was about to ask why when Rafe cut her off.

"Ask him yourself." He said, motioning to the door leading to the dining room. Emily frowned, not understanding what he meant until the wooden doors slid open. There was no mistaking the man who emerged, his tall figure, brown unkempt hair and soft hazel eyes that avoided her gaze, almost as if he were afraid to look up.

"S-Sam?" She whispered, freezing where she stood, shock and confusion overriding all senses and emotions.

"Hey, sweetheart." He said, his quiet Boston accent being music to her ears. His eyes met hers. It felt like an eternity until he moved, cautiously making his way over to her, afraid of how she would react. Once he was a few feet away he looked down in shame, not knowing what to say. Emily still stood in her place, not finding the willpower to move, taking in every last detail of his aged face. She noticed the trail of birds running down the side of his neck, the deepened lines on his forehead and eyes. Though it had been so long, he was still almost the same.

"Look, I know you must be confused and hurt right now, but I-" Sam was cut off as Emily threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

"Oh god, I missed you." She mumbled the tears that she had held in so long, beginning to fall, wetting his blue shirt. Almost as soon as she had embraced him, his arms had wrapped themselves around her, he felt the difference in her frame, she seemed more toned, but he had craved the feeling of her being in his arms for so long that he didn't question it. Instead, he buried his face in her hair, smelling the sweet scent of lavender shampoo that she still used to this day, and felt himself smile.

"I missed you too."

Rafe observed for a few more seconds by the door, before scowling slightly and leaving the two in the room, the feeling of jealousy burning deep within him.

"I-We, we thought you were dead, all these years, h-how is it possible?" She asked, finally pulling away, looking into his eyes once more. Sams smile never left his face as he ran his finger along her cheekbone. He observed her facial features for a few moments, familiarizing himself with the face he saw only his dreams whilst in Panama.

"You know, after all these years, you're still so beautiful." He whispered. Emily blushed, smiling widely and looking down at her feet. Her stoic facade that she had built up over the years seemingly decaying in front of the man who had induced it.

"You're not too bad yourself, Drake." She replied, a soft smile on her face as she leant into his hand that now rested against her neck and cheek. Sam let out a hearty chuckle before bringing her forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Does...Does this mean that you're going to keep looking for the treasure?" She asked cautiously, not wanting to ruin the moment but wanting to clarify what was to happen now. Sam sighed, taking her back into his arms and swaying side to side slightly.

"Yeah, that's...that's why I'm here. Rafe found out I was still alive and got me out of prison. He told me that you had left a few years back and he needed a Henry Avery expert, but..." There was a silence that caused Emily to look up at Samuel.

"What?" She questioned quietly. Sam looked down at her and smiled again.

"Who's to say he won't want your help again too?" A pang of guilt struck through her chest as Sam looked at her hopefully; memories of Rafe and their unpredictable relationship flashing back before her. "It might take a bit of convincing but, it will be nice to have the old team back, right?"

"What about Nathan?" She asked, noticing as Sam stiffened at the mention of his name.

"He...He doesn't want to be involved. I went to see him not too long ago and, well, he's settled down now and doesn't want to uproot his life." Sam said uncomfortably, avoiding Emily's gaze completely. Emily frowned, not understanding why Nate, after all these years, wouldn't want to spend time with his brother.

"He really said that?" She asked with slight sadness, picking up on Sam's refusal to look her in the eye. "It doesn't seem like Nate..." She shook her head slightly to herself, the small frown disapearing after a moment as she chose to instead focuson the feeling of being held again and the familiar smell of whiskey and smoke. "I still have my job at the Museum but...I can try and work something out."

"You'd do that?" Sam asked, looking down at her with slight adoration and surprise. "Because I don't want to take you away from that place if-" Sam was cut off by Emily's lips quickly being place over his own; short, sweet and long overdue.

"For the past thirteen years I have lived my life thinking you were dead." Her hands ran through his hair tenderly, ignoring its greasiness from lack of showering and the slick grime which clung to it tightly. "Besides, it's just like old times, right?" She smirked up at him, a deep chuckle rising up his throat as he wrapped his arms around her once again.

"Just like old times."

 

 


End file.
